


Lightning

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Short & sweet tumblr-weed [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Complete, Derek Likes Stiles, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Nervous Derek, Romantic Fluff, Stiles Likes Derek, Storms, Thunder and Lightning, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a storm passing over Beacon Hills when Stiles sees Derek standing outside his window in the pouring rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning

There’s a storm raging outside, lightning and thunder, rain pelting against the side of the house, the full nine yards. Stiles sits at his computer, cackling when he realises the Fourth of July fireworks are ruined for the night, and keeps on cackling right up until there’s another brilliant flash of lightning and the computer goes dark with a burst of electricity.

"Ughh. Damn, fuck. _Seriously?!_ I was actually working, _damn it_.”

Stiles continues to mutter at the storm, at his computer, then rolls his chair over to the window to entertain himself with the storm until he can be bothered to go out to the fuse box. There’s another flash of lightning, a roll of thunder following it immediately, and he grins as the sky lights up purple with another flash, and then another. He notices something in the yard below and stills suddenly, his heart racing. Stiles strains his eyes, trying to think of what sort of person - or supernatural being - would be dumb enough to be outside in this sort of weather. The sky lights up again, and Stiles calms down, rolls his eyes, and opens his window.

"Get up here, you idiot! You’re soaking wet, and I’m not taking care of you when your wolfy ass gets sick!" Stiles calls, leaving the window open, stepping back.

Derek’s in his room a moment later, jacket dripping wet on the carpet, and Stiles sighs at the thought of having to dry up after him like a dog that’s peed on the carpet.

"I’ll get the paper towels; you get into the bathroom and get out of those wet clothes. Go have a shower to warm up, and I’ll find some warm clothes that’ll fit you," Stiles promises, patting Derek’s shoulder with a wet thwack and a wince, then heads down to the kitchen to get the paper towels.

When he gets upstairs again, Stiles can hear the shower running. The power’s not on yet, so the shower’s probably going to be cold, but from the rain he felt on Derek’s jacket, it’s likely to be warmer than the rain outside. He hopes so, at least. Stiles finds his torch, twists it on and sticks it in his mouth to rummage through his drawers for something to fit Derek. He grins around the torch on seeing his blue and orange striped shirt, sets it aside, and keeps looking. He’s grown since then, and Stiles reckons he might actually have shirts and pants that could fit Derek’s bulkier frame. He finds a pair of grey sweats (Stiles thinks that they might actually be Derek’s, accidentally kept after the time that troll was in the Preserve) and a blue shirt that’s loose on Stiles’ body, and then sticks the striped shirt on top, just for a joke. The shower turns off, and Stiles knocks on the door briefly.

"Here, got some clothes for you. And a torch," he adds, unsure if Derek can even see in the dark without shifting.

"Thanks, Stiles."

"Welcome," Stiles replies, opening the door and holding the pile through the small gap.

His eyes automatically follow the beam of light, seeing it reflect off the bathroom mirror, and he swears he can see Derek’s ass in the mirror too. Stiles swallows, licking his lips, and then chastises himself silently, but it’s not enough to make him look away. Derek takes the clothes without a word, and closes the door.

Stiles goes back to his room, makes himself think about anything other than Derek naked, and flops onto his bed as he tries to guess why Derek’s here. _Maybe the storm’s not natural? Maybe the storm’s brought something with it? Maybe the storm’s enticed sea creatures, and there’s mermaids in the river now?_

"Stiles?" Derek calls when he doesn’t immediately see him at the computer and the house is still dark.

"On the bed. Hey," Stiles says, giving a little wave. "Lost electricity about a minute before you came in here; I’ll get to the fuse box eventually," he adds, giving an awkward shrug considering his position on the bed.

"I can do that?" Derek offers.

"No, dude, you just got dry. No point going back out there. It’s not really bothering me; you okay in the dark?" Stiles asks.

"Fine." Derek twists the torch off and sets it on the computer desk, making his way over to Stiles’ bed, standing next to it.

"So, what brings you here? Hope you didn’t think there was a barbecue on?" Stiles asks, grinning slightly.

"No, I knew the Sheriff was working," Derek replies, and he sounds nervous.

"All right… You going to sit down, big guy?"

"Yes. Right," Derek murmurs, sitting on the end of the bed cautiously.

Stiles raises an eyebrow, certain that a single sneeze would probably send the werewolf flying off the mattress.

"Dude, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing, I just… This was stupid, never mind; I’ll leave now."

"Whoa, no, you don’t! You just got here," Stiles says firmly, grabbing Derek’s wrist to keep him seated. "Talk to me, Derek."

The use of his name seems to startle Derek, but he nods briefly. “I came to ask you on a date. There’s a new Marvel movie out, and I know you like those, so I thought we could go together.”

The words all come out in a rush, like Derek’s ripping off a bandaid, and Stiles … Stiles was so **not** prepared for that. He had no idea Derek liked him enough to want to try a relationship - or even just a _date_ \- and he just stares at him for a long few seconds.

"Fuck. Sorry, I thought… Fuck," Derek curses, and Stiles shakes his head quickly, because Derek’s mistaking his shocked silence for rejection.

"No, no! I mean, _yes_. _Yes_ , to the date. _No_ , to you thinking that I’d ever say no. I’d seriously love to see the new Hulk movie with you,” Stiles says, grinning broadly.

"You would?" Derek asks, incredulous.

"Yes. And even better news, I already downloaded it. We can watch it right now, if you’d like?"

"You _pirated_ a movie?” Derek asked, sounding scandalised now.

"Uh, _yeah_. I haven’t been able to go to the movies in the past three years because I can’t bring myself to turn my phone off, and I can’t seem to justify spending all that money on a movie ticket when I might have to run out halfway through to save someone’s furry ass," Stiles snorts. "But I’m willing to turn my phone off for three hours if I’m there with you," he adds, grinning broadly.

Stiles is certain that Derek blushes and then there’s a flash of lightning outside that proves it.

"So, still want to watch it now?" Stiles offers, leaning over his bed to grab his laptop.

"Yes," Derek murmurs, distracted by the length of Stiles’ body, stretched and presented right there in front of him.

He shifts Stiles slightly until he can slip behind him on the bed, and Stiles immediately wriggles around until he’s settled between Derek’s legs and they’re both comfortable. They watch the movie, Stiles commenting on differences between the scenes and comics, and Derek surprises Stiles by making his own comments about the characterisations and storyline, but by the end of it, they both agree that it wasn’t the worst adaptation they’ve seen, and agree to see it on the big screen that weekend.

Stiles turns off the laptop and twists to set it aside, but he doesn’t say anything about Derek leaving, and Derek finds he doesn’t want to leave Stiles just yet anyway. He nuzzles against Stiles’ shoulder, breathing in his warmth and his scent, and shudders when he feels Stiles’ blunt nails slide up his leg slowly.

There’s another flash of lightning, the thunder taking a few seconds longer to follow, and Derek memorises Stiles’ moles as he nuzzles and licks his way up his neck to his cheek. Stiles moans something in appreciation, and Derek’s arm tightens around his waist, holding Stiles closer still. Stiles turns his head the best he can, and presses his lips to Derek’s mouth, both of them moving softly, slowly, sweetly. Derek groans as they pull away, then grabs Stiles’ hips and turns him so they’re face to face, kissing him again, and it’s different this time, Stiles’ lips plump against his, their tongues flicking out experimentally, curious about the other’s response.

Stiles threads his hands into Derek’s hair, still slightly damp from the rain and shower, and tugs his head back gently, changing the angle so he can kiss Derek firmer still. Derek lets Stiles manoeuvre him as he wants, and Stiles reciprocates easily. Their shirts get lost over the course of the night, and they slip down to soft and sleepy kisses, Stiles’ blanket wrapped over both of them as they fall asleep with their hands and mouths on one another.

They’re both oblivious to the lightning slowly fading away as the storm rolls past Beacon Hills, and sleep, holding each other in the dark.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


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